


In a better world

by RuleBritannia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda to Taxi Driver, Gen, Introspection, implied alcoholism, post-8x19, very lightly implied non-heterosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuleBritannia/pseuds/RuleBritannia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistakes are only apparent after facing the consequences</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a better world

**Author's Note:**

> This is important. I don't really agree with the way I've made Sam think about himself. I just think that is the way he would think about himself.

Sam Winchester doesn't do guilt if he can help it, and he can't always help it. He believes in responsibility, in righting one's mistakes if it's possible. He believes in atoning. He has to. But the world has proven to him again and again that his good intentions have always paved the only road he seems to know to travel, no matter how hard he fights it. So today, Sam Winchester feels guilty.

In an ideal world, he and Dean would probably not live in the same house, let alone in an abandoned (though he has to admit, luxurious) bunker in Lebanon, Kansas.

In an ideal world, that thought wouldn't make him feel guilty. It wouldn't imply he doesn't love his brother enough. It would mean they both had the chance to chase after their dreams. They would both have families, he's sure. And he wonders, sometimes, what kind of person Dean would end up with. But he doesn't go down that road often. He doesn't want to start second guessing every joke, every teasing comment and jab he's made at the expense of his brother's insecurities, because he doesn't need any more guilt right now.

They would be different, he knows that; with different approaches to life, different opinions, and that would not drive them apart, in an ideal world. It would enrich them. And choosing to live their lives wouldn't mean abandoning others to die, or abandoning each other.

But it's in the little things, too. Because Sam knows that in a better world, not even an ideal one, he wouldn't have to stare at his brother, shoulders sagging, looking much older than he looked yesterday, while he studies the bottle of whiskey with a frown. Sam wouldn't wish he'd thrown every last bottle away, before drinking became more than just drinking again.

In a better world, he would not have resented his brother having a buddy. A good buddy. There wouldn't have been any jealousy, any resentment, any _"Why can you, when I couldn't?"_. A friend wouldn't have meant mistrust. He wouldn't have to go through every word, every scornful look he gave Dean this past year, because he couldn't deal with his own confusion, his own sense of loss.

He wouldn't be paralyzed, staring at his brother battling his demons, without knowing what to say, how to stop him. Sam imagines that, if the world were a different place, he would get up from his chair and take the bottle away, pull Dean into a hug and let him know how sorry he is, how much he loves him, how much he means to him.

In the end, because the world is what it is, and Sam is not as free of John's conditioning as he would like to believe, he just sighs, heads over to his brother, his best friend, and picks up two glasses. It might be the wrong thing to do; with his track record, Sam wouldn't be surprised if it was. But it's the thing he can do. He can be there, in silence, battling those demons along with him.


End file.
